Ressurect Me
by the-warner-syndrome
Summary: (AU) One thing that Juliette ever wanted was to live a normal, peaceful life. And she did. She had the sweetest boyfriend, the most trustworthy friend, and the most understanding parents. Until a certain boy came into her life, again. A story of a misunderstood boy and a broken girl. (Rated T for intimate scenes and foul languages. DONT FORGET TO RnR SO I CAN CONTINUE WRITING!)
1. Full Summary, Dedications, Author's Note

_**If you want to start reading the first chapter, click the button that says "Next" which is on the upper right of this message. **_

**Full Summary:**

**(AU)** One thing that Juliette ever wanted was to live a normal, peaceful life. And she did. She had the sweetest boyfriend, the most trustworthy friend, and the most understanding parents.

Until _he_ came into her life. Again.

Juliette doesn't want to be involved in Warner's life again after the tragic history between them two years ago. She doesn't want and need to break her heart again; she doesn't need all the emotional pain he's given her after the accident.

But Warner still wants her back, and he'll do whatever it takes to let her understand why he to do _it._ He wants to tell her the horrible secrets he's kept for so long. He wants her to love him again.

But loving Warner might be the hardest decision to make.

Because even Juliette, the person who never caved in, who never hid any secrets, who never lied,

has a secret of her own.

And once Warner finds out, everything would be disastrous.

Will the pain of their pasts destroy their could-have-been future together? Or will this only bring them closer and realize that the attraction they once had was still in them after all these years?

(IT IS AN EXTREMELY HIDEOUS SUMMARY. I WILL REWRITE IT WHEN I CAN FINALLY THINK STRAIGHT)

* * *

**Dedications**

**To Zoe, Sam and Jae (Zamjae)**

Who understands even the darkest corners of my messed-up soul,

Who gave me a reason to slowly trust people with my secrets, and made me understand that friends are more than just shoulders to cry on.

Who loved me for who I was.

**To my tumblr friends**

Who somehow befriended me despite my unhealthy addiction to Warner.

Who gave me a reason to write this story.

**To people with a life hidden from their society: **

"A reader lives a thousand lives,

A writer tells a thousand stories,

A photographer tells a thousand memories.

A human lives a thousand lifetimes."

"I cannot tell you that everything will be okay—because it will never be. Your life has its ups and downs. Your life is a complete disaster.

But here's a secret:

Everyone's is.

You only live once, so why not live it with excitement?"

* * *

**A message from the author: **

This is nothing but a pure work of fiction. If you have seen a story that is quite similar to this, then I will have to say that I do not know that story for this was something that popped into my head. I have never read or even heard of a book that has the same story as this.

_For those who have requests, questions, suggestions or other random stuff, you can PM me in the reviews box here or PM me directly at my account, KSPotato. _

Juliette, Warner, Adam and all the characters (including Shatter Me itself) is owned/written by Tahereh Mafi. I have no relation to her whatsoever. And the difference in her character and my character's personalities are explainable in so many ways that I do not have to tell you. THIS IS ONLY A FANFICTION.

And if TM ever sees this: Hi : I love you. Mostly Warner, but I love you, too.

This story does not affect the upcomming book, (Untitled) Me, which is also written by TM as a continuation for Shatter Me.

My lack of writing style is thanks to my lack of vocabulary, because I am only THIRTEEN YEARS OLD AND I AM ONLY A HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE SO SUE ME FOR BEING YOUNG AND HUMAN.


	2. Chapter 1: Warner

_**Ressurect Me**_

**Juliette's P.O.V.**_**  
Chapter 1:Warner**_

"Hey, J."

I close my locker and turn to where the deep voice came from, my mouth curling to a smile as I drink in his handsome features. He's wearing a plain white shirt and black jeans and he still takes my breath away by the simple sight of him.

"Good morning, Adam. What's up?" He wraps his arms behind me and nuzzles my neck, making me squeal and laugh. I hear someone, probably Kenji, yelling "Get a room!" at us.

"I just missed you. Can we walk to class together?" He muffled against my skin. I notice the way his shoulders tense and his jaw tighten, and my smile falters, worry overcrowding my thoughts. Before I could speak my mind, he looks at me and his hand trails down my arm until his fingers entwine with mine. My worry fades as my heart beats in a confusing rhythm, like it doesn't know whether to speed up or stop altogether. One year and three months and he still makes me shy.

My past wasn't something that's actually good to meddle with, and I don't even want to think of it. The highlight of it was that Adam was the one who eventually saved me from the darkness.

"Sure," I say and my brows crease at his distant stare. He flinches when I lightly pinched on his arm. "Hey, what's wrong, baby? Bad night?"

He laughs, but his tone is anything but humorous. "Nothing... Just—I met someone who I wasn't even supposed to know."

"Who?" I asked as we enter the Chemistry room. He ignores my question and exhales in frustration. Stops in the middle of the door, wraps an arm around my waist and lean down to kiss me, eliciting whistles from the students behind me.

I close my eyes and lose myself in the kiss, moving my arms to wrap them around his neck, playing with the hairs at the nape. His groan vibrates into me and I shiver at his touch before he leans back, the warmth of his lips still lingering in mine.

"You'll find out," He mutters, like he's not even sure of what to do, and walks to his table. It's a sad sight to see a very composed person drift off. When their father left Adam and James alone, and their mother murdered when he was fifteen, Adam learned how to be mature and composed, like an adult. I rarely see him lose his front, and it isn't something I want to happen again. But it's happening again, and I don't know how I could help him.

I sigh and walk toward my station, which was at the very back. The chemistry room has nine stations, three per row, and all of them have to be consumed by two students each. Since there are only seventeen of us, which explains why the other seat on my station was empty.

As I sit down, Reece taps on my shoulder and I turn to face her. Reece has been my best friend since God-knows-when, but when we first fought over that swing I knew we were bound to be best friends. She's really beautiful: sparkling blue eyes, wavy blond hair and long legs. She's the kind of person who could light up the entire room, or make everyone smile just with her laughter. And I love her so.

"Juliette," She chirps. "How was your weekend?"

"Tiring," I replied, not wanting to talk about how I just watched TV and slept the whole day. "Yours?"

"It was fun! I went out with Conrad and we—"

I raised my hands in front of me, gaping at her. "Wait, wait. So you're with Conrad now? What happened to Will?"

She shrugs. "We only hooked up a few times. We're not actually dating, you know." I knew that. When I asked her a few years ago why she didn't want to settle into a relationship she said, "Because I don't want to end up hurting myself again. You experiences it too, right?" I did, and it was a terrible mistake.

"Anyways," she continued. "Change of subject: there's a new guy coming to school and Ashley said he was _hot._ Like, really _really_ hot that everyone was looking at him when he was walking toward the Head Office. Well that's what she said. So how's Adam? I kind of admired the display a while ago." She wiggled her brows and I laughed, my cheeks heating.

"He kind of looked distant today. Said he met someone he wasn't supposed to. I kind of feel bad for him."

"At least he has you." She says earnestly. "I can see how much he loves you just by looking into his eyes." My eyes wander to where Adam was, and he was staring at me with such emotion in his face that I internally melted. He waved at me and flashed a smile before turning back to converse with Kayden, his partner.

"And, by the way you're looking at him, the feeling's mutual." Reece says softly, like she's adoring how happy I am. Reece has always known my past and how it hurt me badly, but when I met Adam, she told me that the pain in my face slowly faded away. But she knows it still lingers inside me, hiding behind the walls I built to protect myself. I learned my lesson and I don't want to risk everything again.

We switch to a different subject and continue our random conversation until Ms. Gates walks in and silences us. "Good morning, class. I'm sure that all of you, or at least the girls, have heard of the news: we have a new student here at Omega Point High. He'll be in this class and he's going to introduce himself." The girls, excluding me and Reece, start giggling.

"He's the one Ash was talking about." Reece mutters, audible enough for only me to hear. "I hope she's right about him being hot." Whether he is hot or not, I couldn't care less. I have Adam. I _love _Adam, and no one can change that. No one.

Gates turns to the slightly ajar door and smiles. "Please come in, Mr. Anderson." I notice Adam's nostrils flaring, the blood draining from his face. He gulps and now I know: he's the one Adam met yesterday. Who is this Anderson guy anyway?

But when he entered the door in slow and careful strides, my Who Is Anderson question is answered. The change of atmosphere tells me something—and it's telling me not to look at his face. I look sideways at Reece, and she's gaping, mouth open, eyes wide, body trembling. I try to call her, but she doesn't hear it, and I'm panicking. This only happened to Reece twice and... it was because of _him_.

I know who he is, and if I look up, my guess will be confirmed. I don't want to I don't want to I don't want to. I'm afraid. My heart's too broken to take anymore surprises.

I watch his Vans sneakers as they take tentative steps toward the podium. His dark jeans, the grey shirt and leather jacket, and the bag that's slung unto his right shoulder. Then I look at his face.

My heart starts to run (in fear), smashing itself into the wall I built, and shatters into tiny crystals. I cover my mouth with my hands, preventing the gasp to escape my lips.

He's here. He's really here and I know I'm dying. I'm dead and I'm dreaming, but it's no heaven and dream.

His blond hair remains in the same style he sported years ago, a little messy and a little fixed. Deep green eyes that pierced through my soul, eyes that once had a flame in them that are brighter than emeralds, eyes that once shed tears that were hidden for so many years. And the way he stands—the stiffness of his shoulders, the tightening of his jaw, the way he calculates his every movement—is all too familiar.

He's changed in the tiniest details possible, but I can still see him. I can see the beautiful mess that once stood before me. And I think I'm going to cry.

Warner... Warner is here. He's here. He's_ alive_.

His eyes locked with mine and the blood drains from his face, his green eyes clouded with something I can't familiarize, like he's about to puke or he's seen a murderer. Then everything around me turns into faceless, outline-less blurs except for him. I can see him so clearly that I must have died. This is a horrible, horrible trick.

Something grasps my wrist, digging into the skin so hard I could _feel _my blood seeping out. Everything snaps to normal, and I notice that everyone's looking at me. And Warner—_oh, Warner_—is looking at me with horror and worry in his eyes. His brows are creased and this makes him look older, but he's still so fucking handsome.

My breathing had turned into ragged gasps and there are tears that are seconds away from escaping my eyes, but some were lucky enough to escape and roll down my cheeks. I turn and Reece is holding on to me like she's afraid I might slip away again, not caring about her nails breaking my skin. I find it difficult to care because something about her expression, her eyes, scare me. She moves back, gazing at the mark she's made on my skin.

Adam rushes toward me, worry laced on his handsome face. I hear the fall and clatter of his wooden chair, the squeak of his shoes, the heaviness of his breathing. He's cupping my cheeks and looking into my eyes and...and…_He's not as beautiful as Warner... He'll never be as—_what am I doing?

"Juliette, are you okay?"

I hear something ring in my head, like a pin dropping, then I look at Reece, who is behind Adam, trembling. I turn to Ms. Gates, who is also panicking, adding more wrinkles to her 54-year-old face. Then I look into Adam's eyes and try to lose myself in them, but I can't. I blink back the tears trying to escape and wipe the few that managed to. Breathe. Forget. Breathe.

"I'm... I'm okay. It's just an—anxiety attack."

"Do you want to go to the clinic, sweetie?" Gates asks, and I shake my head no.

Adam starts, his hand on my arm. He's caressing my skin, but I feel so numb, so paralyzed, that it scares me even more. "But Juliette—"

"_No!_ No. I'm fine, Adam. I just—I'm fine." I sigh and kiss his cheek, ignoring the fact that everyone, including _him_, is looking at me. When I pull back Adam's brows are knitted together, but he nods. He turns to Reece and the two share a meaningful nod before he walks back to his table, his eyes never leaving me.

Ms. Gates coughs, taking everyone's attention. _Thank God_. "Ms. Ferrars, you can have my permission to go to the clinic anytime, okay?" I nod. "Good. I apologize for the accident, class, but I would like you all to meet our new student. A—"

"Warner," He says, his voice low and husky. It reminded me of the way he whispered in my ear, the way he lilted my name like it's a prayer on his lips, a lullaby that will surely make anyone fall asleep in peace. I'm...

I'm going to have another anxiety attack again.

The way he corrected his name made me remember that he never really liked being called by his first name. It made him sound weak. It was an awful reminder that he has his treacherous father's blood and that he was the one who gave him his name.

_And you... You're the only one who can call me that. I trust you_, _Juliette._

"Call me Warner." He repeats, standing straighter. His eyes are focused on the wall behind me, never shifting to other places.

"Okay then. Warner," Gates says. "Could you please sit..." She looks at the class, searching for an empty seat, and finds mine. She points to me with a thin smile on her lips."There: beside Juliette." Warner's eyes snap shut. He gulps, exhales, clutches the strap of his bag. While walking toward me I see the girls staring at him like he's some sort of miracle, and my stomach feels awful.

I turn to Reece for help, but she's looking at me like I'm a poor abandoned puppy who she wants to take home but can't. _I'm sorry_, she mouths. _I'm so, so sorry_. She's eyeing my still-bleeding arm. Uncomfortable, I wipe the blood off with my sweater's sleeve and wave a dismissive hand toward her.

_It's okay_, I tell her, but she's shaking her head again and again. The chair beside me makes a sound and I turn to him. He's still staring at me in disbelief, like he can't believe he's finally looking at me, and so am I.

"_Juliette,"_ Warner says softly, like he's never heard and said that name for years, memories flashing in his eyes.

"A...W-Warner," I croak, my bottom lip trembling. I bite them, hard, until the taste of rust touches my tongue. He notices this, too, and tries to reach his hand out to touch them, but abruptly stops. He's thinking of something, the expression showing in his face, and I want to know what it is—I want to _know_ him, but I'm scared. Slumping on the wooden chair, Warner huffs out a defeated sigh.

"Do you know each other, Juliette?" Gates questions, a hopeful and understanding look in her eyes.

"No." We say in unison and I'm glad he lied. Gates nodded once and turned to the board, ending the hectic first ten minutes of class.

"_Juliette,_" Warner whispers again and my heart beats so fast that I want to tie it down, for fear it might escape my chest and fall into his hands. "Juliette, love, I'm... _I'm so sorry_." The way he calls me, the word that meant a lot to me, makes me remember of the time I was happy. But now I'm aching. I don't answer him.

He reaches out for my arm and his touch is electricity and I am so, so confused. I could feel the warmth of his hand on my skin, the feeling of those hands that were all too familiar caressing my arm. "I need to talk to you." He inhales. I feel him close his eyes as he remembered how my skin felt when he touched me before, a soft sigh escaping his lips."_Please."_ He's begging instead of asking. Then something hits me:

One word.

All I need is one word and he can leave me alone. One word and we can forget about _everything_. We can move on with our lives and act like we've never known each other before. All I need is 1 word, 2 letters, 1 chance...

"Okay."

The sadness and desperation in his eyes disappears and he looks at me like I just told him I love him. He's probably thinking that he could break the walls I rebuilt, but he's wrong. His lips form a smile, showing his perfect white teeth and dimples. Then I'm thinking, _how can someone so disastrous be so perfect? He's a perfect creation of irony: he's a beautiful monster, an angelic devil, a man of full of truth and lies, a perfect ruin. _He's a hurricane and I don't want to be blown away.

Classes end fifty minutes later. It felt like time moved five times slower than usual and the atmosphere of my partner makes it worse: he's happy; he thinks he can close the wounds he made two years ago. But it's the opposite.

He's cutting those stitches and tearing open the wounds, adding more to the injury. He's killing me.

Or maybe it's me who's opening them.

When I exit the room as fast as I could, Adam and Reece are on either side of me. Adam looks furious and frustrated, older than usual, and Reece looks as exhausted as me.

"I can't believe _he's _fucking here." Adam muttered. Reece looks at Adam, then me, cocked her head to one side. "_He knows?"_ she mouths. I shake my head, a little curious to why Adam's pissed at _him_. I never told Adam about… the past. Because bringing the past to the future was something never meant to happen—but ironically, it is. Top of Form

I wrap my arms around Adam and he returns the gesture, gently running his fingers through the ends of my hair."What do you have with A—Warner?"

"He's… He's the guy I met last night." _I already figured that out. What I wanted to know was what you two did and why you talked with him. _

"What?" Reece hisses, a bitter frown on her beautiful face. "Why? Why do you have business with _him_?"

Adam turns to Reece. I could feel his heart beating erratically against his chest. "Nothing." This only pisses her more. She flips, giving Adam the finger, then looks at me. Her eyes are telling me and asking me so many things, but my heart and mind could only take so much.

"I have to go, J. You really should get that injury on your arm checked—oh! And I'm really, really sorry about..._that_." I wanted to tell her that it was worth it. That if it wasn't for her I could've been dead by now. I'm already three parts dead—thee miles deep—I don't need to lose one more; I don't need to drown myself again.

She ignores Adam, gives me another sympathetic smile and takes fast, frustrated steps to her next class. I'm alone with Adam.

Adam and I don't say anything; we just hold each other for a while, for reasons that are different from one another. But when I spot Warner still inside the Chemistry room from across my locker, I pull away from Adam. He looks confused for a while, but his face darkens when he sees Warner walking toward us.

Warner rakes a shaky hand through his hair and looks down at the floor like it's the most interesting thing he's ever seen. In that moment he looks so shy and timid, so unlike the confident and composed boy from before. "So, uh, hi."

"Hi." Adam mumbles. Warner raises his head and looks at me, longing and sadness lurking behind those eyes. "I need to talk with my—partner, Juliette. Ms. Gates told me to ask help from you about the…ah, notes you took for the last two weeks." I nod my head and turn to the boy beside me. "Bye, Adam. I'll see you later."

He pouts like a little boy, turns to me. Smiles. "Later, Juliette. Go get that arm checked, okay?"

"I will." I smile to reassure him.

He pulls me by the waist and presses his lips to mine so hard I feel like I'm going to drown, in a good way this time. He wants me to believe he's doing this to show me that he loves me, but I know better.

"_She's mine and I'm marking my territory" _was screaming in that kiss. He pulls back and casually walks away, "accidentally" bumping into Warner's shoulder, like nothing happened. And I'm somehow irritated by this; by how he treats me and how he's jealous with Warner. It's stupid.

I had to wait for seconds before my breathing reverts to it's normal, slow tempo. Warner's looking at my lips, his own in frown that's so foreign in his face. Something about the way he pouts—the way he shows the tiniest bit of emotions to me—makes him look so angelic that I want to hug him. But I don't.

"You're together." He mutters, more to himself than me, like the word sounds so peculiar on his lips that it confuses him. "You're _together_."

"Warner—" He raises his hand, gesturing for me to stay quiet. We stay like this for a while, and I take the opportunity to observe my surroundings: the sea of faceless people are growing thinner and some of the girls are looking at the boy standing before me. They're staring at my angel. _My beautiful broken angel. _Was_ my beautiful broken angel. _

Warner sighs. "Can I just, uh, borrow your notes? I'll give them to you during Literature class." I look at him like an idiot and he chuckles. "We have the same Literature class. And don't ask how I knew it." I nod my head and he flashes a contented smile, but his eyes don't say the same story. Then his hands move up to cup my jaw, his thumb carefully caressing my cheek. I don't know what was scarier: his touch feeling lighter than a feather's, or the fact that I don't want this to end. After all these years he's still afraid of breaking me, and I'm still afraid of being broken.

I lean in to the touch and close my eyes, just for a second, to feel the softness of his callused fingers, reminiscing of the touch that enlightened my soul way back; sadly, it still does. But I don't want to tell myself that; it's unhealthy.

"You still scare me, love." He whispers, his hot breath brushing my ear, and I shiver. When he pulls back, he tips my head up with his finger so I can face this six-footed boy. I open my eyes to see his shining with passion and sadness.

"Why?" I say, breathless, but he just chuckles softly and kisses my cheek unhurriedly. And with that, he is gone and so is my sanity.

Once everything around me grew vivid, I noticed that some people were looking at me, their cheeks flooded with heat. Immediately, they turned away and continued their business. I rested my back on the lockers, despite the handles digging into my back, and sigh.

_You still scare me, love._

I know, Warner. I'm still scared of me, too.

* * *

**A/n: I have mild teenage issues so I might update this only once a week. I still have to update FADE and Forever, so yeah. Here are some details of the characters:**

**About Warner:** In this story, Warner is still the tough, impassive kind of guy. But he looses his shit in front of Juliette. He's 18 here, unlike in SM where he is 19.

**About Juliette: **OMYGOD GUYS THIS IS AN AU STORY OKAY? Juliette's kinda average-teenage-girl here. But there is something about her past that YOU WILL SOON FIND OUT IN THE FUTURE CHAPTERS. J is still 17 :3

**About Adam:** Juliette's current BF. He, too, has an important story with Juliette in the past. He's 18

**About Reece: **Juliette needs a friend, so I gave her one. Reece isn't an actual person in real life. Reece's personality has that of the personalities of my three other friends: she's boy-crazy, she's hilarious when she wants to, she's a bitch and she's proud, sometimes she acts like a guy, she cares about her best friend even if she doesn't know what her friend's problem is.

**About Kenji:** Dohoho. You'll be expecting more of him.

**About the story:** You'll slowly understand what's happening once everything's been posted. I know you're all confused (I was, too) and I know you all think that Warner and Juliette were once... (that's your guess)... well... there's something even deeper to that story.

**P.O.V.** The P.O.V.s will be depending on who's important in the story. Maybe it'll be Warner's, or Adam's, or Reece's. Probably Kenji's, too. And there might be times when it's in third person omniscent (MIGHT).

**LEAVE A REVIEW IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE. **And don't forget to correct me if I wrote down a word that has a different meaning than what I intended it to have. Sometimes I forget to replace them.


	3. Chapter 2: It Tortures Me

_**Ressurect Me**_

_**Juliette's P.O.V.**_

_**Chapter 2: It Tortures Me**_

I love/hate Literature.

The hate is because I have an essay that's due today and it's annoying how people are buzzing around, copying others' works. We had almost three weeks—eighteen days—to write this stupid essay about Shakespeare's play, _Romeo and Juliet._

I also hate Literature because once again, Warner's my seatmate. He told me he would give me back my Chemistry notes by Lit, but he still hasn't given my notes back. But the thing I hated more was the attention he quickly gained from everyone even when he was here less than ten hours ago.

He was like that with people. He never really noticed them, but somehow it seems like everyone's drawn to him. Like there's something about the way he's concentrated and uncaring to everything that makes him worth following. I was the one who knew that the most.

When he entered the classroom, all eyes were directed to him in a flash. Including mine. He was unfazed by the jealous glares and "check-outs", but when his eyes met mine he looked nervous all of the sudden. I realized that it was because I was staring at him, I turned away, hiding the blush creeping up my cheeks. Luckily, my table was near the windows facing the outdoor courts.

Luckily, Adam's having his Physical Education class today. At this very hour. Outdoors.

I spot him almost immediately, like I was already accustomed to spotting him out of the twenty or so people surrounding him. Maybe it's because my heart already found comfort in him. And it was the same as him. He looked up seconds later and found me staring at him. I couldn't see him that much since I was three floors above, but I could still see the smile on his face. He raises his hand up for a wave, but before I could return the gesture my eyes fall to his body and my mouth drops.

He's not wearing a shirt. I could see his sculpted muscles and the beautiful bird tattooed on his back and I'm all, _Sweet Jesus, thank you thank you thank you._

Someone tell me I died and gone to heaven. Death has never been so beautiful and six-packed and oozing with so much sex appeal.

Adam's smile switches to a mischievous and amused one when he noticed the darkening of my blush; but he doesn't push it further. He mouths the words "I love you" before running laps with his group, and I'm deciding if I should jump out of this window, run after him and give him a hot, sweaty—

"Can I sit here?"

My delicious thoughts of what to do to my delicious boyfriend melts away as the sound of his smooth voice invades my brain and my ears, plunging straight to my heart—to the spot where it once knew how his voice sounded. _Finally, _That part of my heart shouts to the heavens_. He's back; I can feel him. He's so familiar I just want to escape this confused girl's chest and jump into his arms. _I wish you can, heart, but I'm afraid escape is the last thing I want to do; I'm tired of escaping.

Warner's standing there, gripping the armrest of the empty seat beside mine. His eyes are looking straight into my soul again, like he's wishing he's still familiar with her; he's wishing that the girl he once knew was still there. She was, she is, but she's hiding behind another soul. A stronger soul who doesn't know who those breath-taking emerald eyes belong to.

_The soul you're looking for is half-dead,_ she says. _You killed half of her fifteen months ago, and if you don't stop looking at me—at us—like that, I'll make sure you're watching as she slowly dies in your hands. _

And if I don't stop listening to my soul and my heart, my other internal organs might start speaking, too. My brain has been quiet—and, truthfully, I would love to hear what my brain thinks about this. About him. It knows everything I should—and it will remind me of what happened a year ago.

"Sure," I say, waving a disinterested hand toward the chair. "You don't have to ask, though."

"I should have." He mumbles, obviously talking about something else. Something I don't want to remember.

"No, you don't. I kind of have no choice now, do I? Free country and all that." I shrug and turn my attention to my hot boyfriend below. Warner slumps on the chair, defeated. "You still do." Someone whispers, sounding more like it came from the voices of the wind than the voice of a boy.

I wish I didn't, I wanted to tell him. "I know." I mutter, making sure he didn't hear yet wanting those words to ring in his ears the entire day. I stole a quick glance over my shoulder; he heard and understood.

The darkness in his eyes faded, a little, and he steadied himself in the chair. I could feel his distant stare as he, too, watched Adam and the others run. "How long have you two dated?" His question, admittedly, surprised me, but I decided to keep calm and answer honestly.

The word honesty seems to hit me like a ton of bricks. Like I don't deserve to have that trait; I don't deserve to be honest after that. "Fifteen months." He grows silent, possibly thinking, _three months was all it took? _But then I want to tell him no. I want to tell him everything. I want to tell him _why_ it took three months, _why_ everything in my life is a huge mess.

He deserves to know the truth, but I don't deserve whatever happens next.

Because I know he'll forgive me. And forgiveness is one thing I don't want to receive. Even from him. _Especially_ from him.

"He's a lucky guy. If I were him... I wouldn't do anything stupid to hurt you..." _Again_. I know he wanted to add those words-I can feel it slipping off his tongue. Before he could say that, I decide to end the conversation with a blow.

"But you did, didn't you?" A very, very low blow. I feel sick, for myself and for Warner. I feel sick for hurting his feelings, and for him hurting mine. But all is fair in love and war... whatever that meant. What I said was not entirely fair, but it was close enough in a way that we were both hurt.

Warner decided not to take the road to danger, pushing the unforgotten past aside. Before I could ask Warner about my notebook, he was gone the second the bell rang. He was good at that—at disappearing. But, eventually, I found out that he did return my notebook. I found it inside my bag, and that he taped a note to one of the pages. I didn't tell Reece this, and I wouldn't dare tell Adam. He seems pissed as is, I don't even know why, so discussing Warner probably isn't the best thing for him.

"I'm home." I announce to no one in particular as I close the door and throw my bag on the couch. My mom's head peeked out of the kitchen door with a concerned smile on her face.

"Welcome, Juliette, how's your day?" I love how she's always concerned with my everyday life, and how she's so easy to talk to. Sometimes I think of her more of a friend than a mother, but my respect for her is still in place. It was because of the kindness and love she gives me that I decided to trust her and tell her everything. Even about my past, and my sins.

"Honestly?" I tell her, and she hums a yes. She probably knows it already, but I guess she's still cautious about him. "Warner's back..."

"Do you know where he went, though?"

I slumped on the couch, bringing my feet atop the table. My hands try to fish for the remote tucked in one of the pillows and I turn the T.V. on to How I Met Your Mother. Barney's just so awesome... "No. I didn't ask him."

"How about his father, Mr. Anderson? Don't you think it's suspicious how his son just up and went, and his father—the mayor—just let him?" Mr. Anderson, Warner's father and our town's mayor, was mysterious as his son. No one knows his first name, and why he let Warner run away, or if he was actually his father. He never even mentioned anything about having a son to the media, I knew that because Warner told me.

"He probably doesn't know his son's studying in Omega Point." Walking to the kitchen, I kiss my mom on the cheek and open one of the cabinets to make my coffee.

"Juliette," My mother's voice is laced with worry and I could see the lines on her forehead adding. She seems so tired lately, and I feel bad for her, but when I try to ask her why she's always so stressed, she always told me not to mind it. I don't, but I'm still worried for her. "I heard that he's your Chemistry partner and Literature seatmate... Do you want to ask for a transfer, dear? I know you don't feel comfortable around him."

"It's okay, mom, it's just a school thing."

"Are you sure? I don't want to see yourself hurt again—"

"_I'm still hurting!" _She thinks I'm yelling it to her, but I know better: I'm reminding myself that I still really am hurting. That the pain just can't go away. "I'm still hurting…"

"Juliette," She gasps. I look down and realize that the hot water I'm pouring has already overflowed and my left's hand already red from the burn. Funny, I didn't feel it until mom had to take the mug away from me and pulled my hand on the sink to wash it.

The coldness of the water stings, but I don't complain. I just stare into the red bruise forming on my knuckles like it's the least part that's hurting right now—and, truthfully, it really is.

"I'm sorry, Juliette." My mom spoke, and I for a while I had forgotten she was here, sobbing. "If only I did something… It's all my fault…"

"No," I tell her calmly, but right now I feel like something has pierced my chest. Breathe. "It's my fault."

She wraps her arms around me and sniffs,"Honey—"

"Don't start with me, mother. I know it's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's not dad's fault… neither is it Alex's fault—but please, _please_, put all the blame on me." I've told her this many times. That if someone doesn't take the blame I'll be pissed. Because if it does become a forgotten memory, the guilt and the sin will disappear. I don't want it to. I just don't.

The room grows silent and it only makes me uncomfortable. Mom just nods in response and lets go of me. "Six months, Juliette. Six months. I don't care if you accept or not, but I want you to tell."

"Thanks, mom." I kiss her cheek and dash off to my room to get a bandage for my bruised hand.

"Oh, and Juliette." My head turns to where she's standing. "I still love you, you know, after everything—I always will."

"I love you, too, mom."

Maybe it was just my imagination, but when I reached my room I could hear her voice whisper to me: "I also love Alex. I still do." I was sure enough to know that she didn't want me to hear it, and at the same time she wants me too. I know she does.

_I know, mom. I still love Alex, too._

A few minutes before midnight, I decided to read the note Warner left for me. I was terrified, at first, but I guess the way his handwriting felt nostalgic to me gave a sense of comfort, so I started reading:

* * *

Juliette,

I told you a while ago that I wished to speak to you during Literature, but knowing that you couldn't bear to look at me, I decided we should talk when you're ready to. If we did talk, then this letter wouldn't have been in your bag in the first place. I know you, love. I know you better than anyone else.

When I saw you during Chemistry, I was terrified. Frankly, I wanted to run away at the sight of you (I didn't mean it in a bad way. Forgive me if you were offended). You were trembling, breathing so deeply that Reece had to graze your skin. I think it was my fault, so I also want to say sorry for that. But here's the thing:

The way you stared at me was what sealed the deal, love. You looked at me with so much hurt and hate that I don't know which one was deeper. Those eyes of yours—I know they weren't grey. You're wearing contacts?—were so lost that maybe, just maybe, if I ran away those beautiful eyes won't contain so much pain. Did the pain disappear when class was dismissed? I was hoping it did.

I know you want to ask me about everything that happened the past fifteen months. But you and I both know that it's best for us to talk about it when we feel comfortable already. I'll tell you everything you want to know, I promise—and this time, I'll keep this promise. It's the least I can do…

You're still so familiar to me, Juliette. Your hair, your hands, your voice. They're all too familiar that it hurts. Does it torture you the same way it tortures me?

I know you still hate me, so I won't pour out all my shitty emotions until you know who I truly am. But right now, I can tell you who I am—or what I am: a monster.

If you open your blinds and window, the one across my room, that means you still believe in me. I don't want anything else—not even your forgiveness—but to be your friend. I want to start again. I want to know you, love, because it seems that you have changed so much.

Please let me inside those walls of yours again.

* * *

The rest of the note was torn, and the rest of them weren't there when I inspected my bag. He probably tore it off. My hand smoothed on the words written in ink. The strokes still look so controlled and clean—so broken.

His words cut through me that I'm wondering why I'm still alive, why I'm not bleeding, why this paper isn't turning into fire and burning me alive.

_I know you better than anyone else…_

You do.

_You looked at me with so much hurt and hate…_

I know.

_Did the pain disappear…_

It never did.

_I'll tell you everything I know…_

I'm scared.

_Promise…_

Promise?

_A monster…_

No, you're not.

_I want to know you…_

You still do.

_Let me inside… _

You still are.

But the words that killed me—that had finally done me—was: _Does it torture you the way it tortures me? _I had to read it again and again, until I was on the verge of tears, to answer that question.

It tortures me. Everything tortures me. The past, the truth, the lies, the secret…_him_.

It kills me.

I cried myself to sleep minutes later, the note hidden inside my box,

with my window open.

* * *

**So now I understood what my inspiration was for this fanfic. My inspirations were:_ Stay_ by Rihanna, _Give Me A Reason_ by P!nk, _When I Was Your Man_ by Bruno Mars… and _Demons_ by Imagine Dragons. Who doesn't love Imagine Dragons? (That was a rhetorical question) **

**Does the story still make no sense? WELL GET USED TO IT. You'll be as confused as a duck until everything's revealed. **

**But some of you probably know what happened between Juliette and Warner… So maybe you're right, but not entirely correct. **

**_Who is Alex?_ Well you'll find that out in the future.  
_What happened to Juliette and Warner before?_ Hah, why should I tell you?**

**_When will Kenji appear?_ Slow down, Bessy. He'll appear in a few. **

**_What will happen next?_ Well, love, normalcy will happen next. Everything's going to be normal the next chapter, high school problems and all that. **

**_The note?_ Eeeeeeeee.**

**DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE A REVIEW, LOVES~**


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